Source: Pixabay.com
Terrible days don't come knocking. No, that will give one enough preparation time to avert it. Instead, one just wakes up with the hope of having the best day yet, only to have that hope squashed under the intruding foot of a terrible day. For Terry, today was one of those days. He had woken up late for work again. In a hasty attempt to make up for lost time while gobbling a breakfast of scrambled eggs, he accidentally spilled the hot coffee on himself. He exclaimed a cuss word, realising that his shirt was badly stained. He tried not to think about the time and care he put into ironing the shirt the previous night before going to bed after an extremely tiring day. That would depress him the more. Dang! It was too late.
After another five minutes of changing into a new shirt, he was out on the street, trying to wave down a taxi. Two minutes passed, and then a taxi stopped for him.
"Main Street," he informed the taxi driver as soon as he jumped into the backseat. "Drive fast, please. I'm late."
The driver nodded as he hit the gas. Settled down, Terry brought out his phone to check his messages on WhatsApp. There were several of them from different senders. From two of his colleagues at work, from Jim, his good friend whom he had spent the weekend helping out. One particularly caught his attention. U'RE THE WORST, it read, punctuated with an angry face emoji. The sender was his younger sister. He knew why she was mad at him. He was supposed to help her with a research for a school assignment she was working on. But he had completely forgotten. The weekend had been an exhausting one for him. He had spent it assisting Jim to paint, and put his new apartment in order in preparation for his new family. Jim was settling down as a married man. The apartment he had been staying in wasn't ideal to bring a new wife into.
"Man Utd was a let-down yesterday, don't you agree?"
It was the taxi driver bringing up a discussion on the football matches played over the weekend. Terry always wondered why most people think every young adult was interested in football, and also cut out for a discussion at anytime. Well, he wasn't.
"You'd not believe it. I lost a hundred bucks on that game," the driver continued.
"Oops, tough luck, eh," he responded, absentmindedly. He was focused on his phone trying to send a text of apology to Claire, his sister, while also trying to come up with a good excuse for his superior at work.
"So, tell me mate, which of the teams do you support?"
This taxi driver wouldn't let him be now, would he?
"Actually not a big fan of football," he said, getting back to texting.
"Oh, really? Must be a boring life for you, mate," the driver said.
"Mhm."
"What then do you do with your life, anything fun?"
Okay! That was it. Apparently, the driver was doing a poor job at minding his own business.
"C'mon, mate, could you just focus on driving?" Terry asked the talkative driver, almost yelling.
That annoyed the driver deeply. He pulled over at side of the road, turning back to face his discourteous passenger, "You know what, since you think you can come into my taxi and insult me, get out of my car!"
"Hey, man. Sorry about that, I really don't know why I said that."
But Terry's plea was a loud sounding nothing in the ears of the insulted taxi driver.
"Get the fuck out!" he yelled.
As Terry stepped out of the taxi, he knew it was impossible to find another taxi at that spot. He was going to be very late, and there was nothing he could do about it. His superior, Mr Proctor, would definitely serve him another query. The third in that month, and it meant a deduction in his salary. He squirmed in regret. If only he had been a little nicer.
This is inspired by one of the previous prompt, Main Street.
Thanks for reading.